


The Soulless War

by CraftyWhovian



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, my original work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyWhovian/pseuds/CraftyWhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story follows two characters; an anti-social scientist; Charlie, and a quirky child; Naomi. There is a civil war taking place. Some people think that you should experiment on the soul to find all of it’s uses. While others think that the soul should be left alone in its beauty, and purity. Naomi's parents are on different sides of the civil war, and fight frequently. Naomi visits Charlie to escape the fights at home. As the war gets worse, and closer to the neighborhoods, Naomi stays with the scientist even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soulless War

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read further, this story has alcohol use, profanity, domestic problems, and violence. If any of these themes bother you, or trigger you, I urge you not to read. If you are fine with these themes, please continue reading.

“Protests throughout the nation are growing larger, and more violent. The Purity is pushing their beliefs stronger now than ever before. The police are unable to calm the crowds. The protesters are spreading closer to residential areas,” the monotone newsman shared the news. It was nothing new. I rarely watched the news. It’s full of the Purity and their ideas. I grabbed the cup of whiskey, and took a swig. It burned the back of my throat. I have been experimenting on souls way longer before the protests began. The Purity are the hippy’s that think that the soul should be left alone in it’s _beauty_. The Innovation believe that you should be able to experiment on the soul, and find it’s real power.

I guess I am apart on the Innovation. Thing is, I don’t work for a huge company, or participate in the protests. I experiment on my own! Society is overrated.

I grabbed my cup to take a drink, but realized it was empty. The newsman was still droning on. The television was showing live footage of a protest. Judging by the landmarks, I could tell it was a few towns over. Not close enough to worry about. People were shoving each other over. Fires were blazing in the shops, casting intimidating shadows across the protester’s figures. Police were trying their best to stop the crowd, but their attempts were not enough. I turned the television off. The yells of a man cut off short.

I glanced at the watch on my left wrist. My heart skipped a beat. “Shit,” I hissed. I was late to meet Ben. I jumped off of the couch, and ran upstairs. On the way, I grabbed my long black coat. I slipped on my shoes. I rushed out of the door, and locked it. My finger fumbled as I tried to put the keys back in my pocket. _I must have drank more than I thought_.

It was drizzling lightly outside. The sun was beginning to sleep, and the moon was in the sky. The sunset casted reds, and purples across the skyline.

Ben’s house was just a couple blocks away. The journey seemed even harder since I was drunk. I really don’t like to socialize completely sober. I don’t like to socialize in general, but being a tiny bit drunk helps.

xxx

“We are not letting her go to that school!” she shouted. “They shove Innovation crap down her throat!”

“Since when is science a bad thing?!” he retorted.

I groaned, and put the pillow over my face. It blocked out the words they were shouting, but I could still hear them faintly. This went on for about five minutes straight.

I noticed that the yelling had stopped, and sat up in my bed. My ears strained to hear if they were saying anything. Suddenly, my door opened, and my mother stood in the doorway.

“Hey sweetie,” she said, as if the shouting match earlier hadn’t happens. Maybe my mother hoped that I hadn’t heard it, but to be honest the whole neighborhood could have hear it.

“Hey Mom,” I replied. I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, and faced Mom. “What’s up?” Perhaps if I pushed her a little she would tell me more about the fight, and why they were arguing.

“Oh, nothing,” she answered. _Bluffing_ , I thought. I decided not to push her further. “Dinner’s ready,” she said as she turned back into the hallway.

I didn’t leave right away. My mind was swimming with the negative thoughts I had pushed away earlier. _Why do they have to fight so much? Are they going to get divorced?_ I didn’t know what to think, but once again I shoved it down, and went on with my day.

I slowly left the sanctuary of my room, and entered the hallway. The wallpaper seemed to be a shade darker, as if it sensed the tension, and anger in the house. The dining room was at the end of the dreary hallway. The food on the table wasn’t steaming like it normally was. They must have started fighting after dinner was made.

My dad sat in his normal seat; the end. He used to joke about how the head of family always sat there. Mom would get flustered saying that she was also the head of the family, but she knew that he was joking. Then he would get serious. He said that when he leaves, I will sit at the head of the table. The joking faces were gone that night.

My mom sat in her seat, already eating slowly. My dad’s plate sat untouched as he read the newspaper. I glanced at the headline, it read; _More Protests Turn Violent_ . I never really understood exactly why everyone was so hot and bothered. I was in a state of innocence, and ignorance, that I soon lost. _It’s funny,_ I thought, _ignorance is looked down upon, but it can be the one thing that keeps you sane._ I was surprised at this thought. I normally don’t think so deeply.

I slowly sat down in my normal seat and began to eat.

“Protests throughout the nation are growing larger, and more violent. The Purity is pushing their beliefs stronger now than ever before. The police are unable to calm the crowds. The protesters are spreading closer to residential areas,” the serious newsman said on the television in the living room. I could just barely see the television from my seat. I stared at the screen, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. There were people yelling, and fighting. _Why would anyone want to do such horrible things?_  I tore my eyes off of the screen, and started to eat again.

xxx

I didn’t know how much more I could take of this place. I scarfed down my room temperature food. I wanted to get out of this suddenly stuffy house.

“Can I go for a walk?” I asked once my place was empty.

‘I guess so,” Mother said without looking away my her plate. I stook up so quickly, the chair almost toppled over. I dodged around the corners of my house, in a desperate attempt to leave the house. I opened the front door quickly, and stepped outside. I stood at the doorway, enjoying the silence.

I love the outdoors. There is always something to watch. Always something to distract you from your intrusive thoughts. I began to slowly walk along the smooth pavement.

It’s quite funny when I think about it. Everything changed when they started fighting. I could see a change in how I acted in front of them. I never really understood what the fights were about sometimes. All I knew was that my mom hates the Innovation, and my father hates the Purity. I had heard these terms hissed. It seemed like an insult the way they said it.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t notice someone walking towards me. Apparently they didn’t notice me either. They were speed walking, and looking at their watch. Just as I looked up to see them, we ran into each other.

They were going so fast, that the impact knocked me over.

“I guess you weren’t _watch_ ing where you were going,” I said.

“What. Oh,” they said. “Did you just.”

“Sorry,” I said. I stood up, and dusted off my pants. “I’m Naomi.”

“Charlie,” they said. I extended my hand.

They looked at my hand with confusion, and said, “Nice meeting you, bye.” They quickly began to walk again.

“Hey! Wait!” I shouted, as I ran to catch up with them. How did they get so far?! They only took three steps? Must be their long legs, I thought.

Charlie looked down at me without stopping. “What do you want?” they asked. They didn't seem to have many manners I noted.

“I just wanted to walk with you,” I replied. I wasn't lying. I really didn't want to walk alone right now. I always walk and talk with my neighbors. It's not weird anymore.

“Why would you want to walk with _me_?” They said.

“You looked nice,” I said. Sort of. It appeared like they didn't brush their chestnut hair today. Their dark grey coat had seen better days. There were bags underneath their eyes as well.

Charlie chuckled a little, and looked back at their left wrist. “Didn't your parents teach you not to talk to strangers?”

“No,” I mumbled. “They're too busy fighting.”

xxx

 _What?! Why is this kid telling me about their feelings, and domestic problems_? I thought. We just met. Regardless of the awkwardness I replied, “What's wrong? How come your parents fight?”

Naomi didn't answer right away. I could see the gears running in her head, deciding whether or not to share such private information.

“They fight because my dad is apart of the Innovation, and my mom is apart of the Purity.”

“Great, now people's beliefs are ruining families too,” I muttered to myself.

“What?” she asked, looking up at me.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly. “Listen kid, I know how you feel. You just have to try get through it. There nothing you can really do. Just keep quiet, and ride out the storm.” It wasn’t a very optimistic view, but it’s the truth.

Naomi was staring at the ground intently. She didn’t seem to take my advice very well. I could see tears beginning to gather in her eyes. I didn’t know why, but I have the sudden urge to go over to her house, and punch her parents square in the face. Their fruitless fights were tearing this kid apart. Regardless of Naomi’s problems, I still had to visit Ben.

“Alright, I have go now. I-uh hope your family gets it together,” I said, as I walked up to Ben’s house.

“Thanks,” she muttered. She stood and watched me as I walked to the front door. Just as I was about to knock, I turned around and waved at Naomi. She waved back weakly.

Just as I was about to knock, Ben opened the door. “Hey there!” He said cheerfully. I still can’t get how happy he is all the time. _Is it normal to be happy most of the time?_

“Hey Ben,” I greeted him. I stepped inside his small house.

“Who was that kid?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“No one,” I answered.

His home was small, probably the only one he could afford. The only reason he even talked to me, was because I payed him. I payed him to let me experiment on his soul. Our relationship is a bit strange. He would try his best to make small talk. I hate small talk. Just get to the main point!

“Do you want some water?” he asked.

“No thank you,” I called from the living room. His couch was worn, and sort of dirty. If I guess correctly, he bought it second-hand. Almost everything he owned was second-hand.

“Come sit!” he said, pointing towards the dinning table. I sat in the seat closest to the door, and he sat in the adjacent seat.

We began our normal routine. I would ask him simple questions, he would answer, and then he would get trailed off. This lasted for about two hours.

xxx

"Well, it was nice talking to you," I lied. "But, I have some important science stuff to attend to at my house." Man I stink at excuses. 

Ben looked disappointed at my statement, but nodded in agreement. "Did you want to see my soul one last time?" he asked as he stood up from the dinning room table.

"Sure."

Ben lifted his shirt up to his chin, and looked down at his chest. As he looked at his chest with concentration, a glowing sphere slowly arose. It glowed so brightly that it casted shadows across Ben's furniture. I began to inspect it. I squinted as I looked for any dark spots in it’s bright appearance.

“No dark spots, or changes in the appearance,” I concluded. Ben smiled, and put his shirt back down.

“That’s good,” he commented. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yep,” I answered as I opened his red front door. I never understood why he painted it red. I suppose it was like him. 

The walk home was slow, and uneventful.

When I reached my house, I flopped on my bed, my clothes still on, and fell fast asleep.


End file.
